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homsan toft ([personal profile] tofsla_fic) wrote2014-02-21 09:08 am

Imperfect Mirror (Niou/Yagyuu)

Prince of Tennis, Niou/Yagyuu (Yagyuu/Yagyuu?), E
1,500 words
Niou gets ideas and Yagyuu conveniently fails to hinder them. Switch porn.



They arrive as themselves on the day of the regional finals, because they've practised being each other on the court more than off it, and they don't want it to be too glaringly obvious. Kirihara knows the plan, helped them practice, and he watches them expectantly when they show up together. Yagyuu shakes his head slightly. Not yet. The others probably have their suspicions, and Yagyuu can't help but wonder if Kirihara has actually told Yanagi. No-one says anything, though, so it doesn't matter either way.

He sits calmly enough to watch Marui and Jackal playing - control is easy for him, and if he feels nervous it doesn't show. He's sure Niou looks just like usual, too, but he can almost feel the nervous tension from behind him. They've been planning this for a long time, even if the decision to do it now instead of at the nationals was made recently, and the anticipation is affecting him more than he expected. Affecting Niou too, apparently.

That much he is fairly sure no-one else is aware of, but for his part he is entirely unsurprised when he feels Niou's foot nudging his lower back quite early in the match - much earlier than they had decided they needed to go when they discussed it the night before. He sits still and lets Niou go first, eyes never leaving the court. He also begins counting to himself, silently. When he reaches eighty he gets to his feet, and when he reaches one hundred he walks away quietly. Yanagi glances his way just as he turns, and there's definitely a sense that he knows something - or at least suspects. Yagyuu might have imagined the slight nod Yanagi gives him, but it seems like approval of whatever they feel is needed to win.


When he reaches the toilets, he sees himself. Sort of. Niou is wearing the wig they got styled to match Yagyuu's hair, has the collar of his shirt turned up; is smirking his own smirk still, though. Yagyuu feels something catch in his chest, a little break in his breathing as Niou looks at him, studies him with interest.

"How is it?" he asks Yagyuu, and Yagyuu reaches out absently to smooth the wig down a little, adjust the parting slightly. He doesn't miss the shift in Niou's expression as Yagyuu's fingertips brush lightly against the skin of his forehead, incidental contact - he isn't trying to start anything, not right before they have to play, but...

"It'll do," he says, which is true. It isn't perfect but it's good enough. They don't have to fool their friends, only their opponents. It doesn't really matter that their face shapes are a touch different, that his shoulders are a fraction broader than Niou's.

"That's all?" Niou grins, and it's disorientating to see that expression on a face which is almost his own. He is looking at someone who is a strange blend of Niou and himself, and it's an odd sensation, but an intriguing one.

"It's good," he amends, and Niou's grin widens then vanishes, replaced by a slight upturn of the lips, understated amusement. Is that what he looks like when he smiles?

"I'm glad to hear that, Yagyuu-kun," Niou says in a very polite voice, but there's an undercurrent of something there and a hint of mischief lingering in his eyes. That little spark is enough to make him want to kiss Niou, but that would be too weird, maybe, probably. Almost like kissing himself. They're never all that normal but there are different levels of madness.

He has a deep suspicion that Niou's thoughts have taken a similar route to his own, with the reservations removed. Niou often does the things which Yagyuu thinks of doing, after all.

Then Niou actually does kiss him, a lingering press of dry lips against his own (so different from the demanding, impatient kisses he is used to from his partner), and pulls away - taking Yagyuu's glasses with him, folding them and placing them carefully by one of the sinks. With the loss of definition, the slight blurring of the world he experiences without his lenses, Yagyuu could almost be looking in a mirror. But he catches a hint of Niou's own grin again before they are kissing again, more insistent this time but still weirdly unfamiliar, Niou trying to kiss like Yagyuu.

He should protest - ask if Niou thinks that he is really so vain as to find this arousing - but it would be a token effort. Niou wouldn't be fooled. He wouldn't actually want Niou to be fooled.

"We don't have much time," he says instead, slightly breathlessly, against Niou's mouth. And anyone could walk in on them here, but they have done worse things in more obvious places before now. Niou is pushing him back into an empty stall anyway, and the idea of resisting is by now barely even a passing thought.

"I assure you," Niou says, in a steadily improving approximation of Yagyuu's voice, "we will not need much time."

Oh, Yagyuu can believe it, especially when Niou's hands and working on deftly and neatly removing his clothes, and Niou's mouth is exploring his neck, his chest, his stomach and-- oh, god. His body colliding with the flimsy cubicle wall as he slumps back against it makes too much noise, someone will hear, come to check. He has to put a hand to his mouth to muffle the sounds he can't hold back. Niou's mouth is hot on his erection, only Niou looks like him right now, and maybe it's just because he hasn't got his glasses on, or because he's finding it hard to think about anything at all - but there's something about Niou, in the set of his shoulders and in the way he holds himself, even though he's kneeling on the floor giving Yagyuu head with... yes... one hand pushing his own shorts out of the way, curling around his cock. Yagyuu groans and closes his eyes, hips jerking forward involuntarily. He's a teenage boy, it's not exactly a challenge to make him hard, so there's nothing really wrong here... except that whenever he looks at Niou dressed as him a fresh wave of arousal spirals through him, pushing him that bit closer to losing control. And he definitely doesn't care any more. It's good and urgent and he comes hard into Niou's mouth, watches with unfocused eyes as Niou-who-looks-like-him licks his lips, shudders, arches his back a little and comes too, all over his hand, a little getting on his shorts.

At least they're white anyway, Yagyuu thinks, and then almost laughs at himself for it, restrains himself only because the lazy, satisfied expression on Niou's (his) face is almost breathtaking, nothing to laugh at.

He helps Niou to his feet, and Niou smiles Yagyuu's own smile at him before it twitches and spreads into a real Niou-smirk, and Yagyuu has to kiss him, tasting himself on Niou's lips. Niou pulls away first, but reluctantly, settling his features into an expression Yagyuu is more used to seeing in the mirror and straightens his clothes until the disguise is as good as it's going to get.

"Contacts, and wig," he tells Yagyuu, opening up the door of the cubicle and retrieving the items in question from his bag as though nothing had happened. "Contacts first so you can see what you're doing, right? And don't take too long."

It's amazing that Niou can sound so unaffected, but then again, Yagyuu can't entirely make out Niou's expression right now - not the details - and he must look quite unaffected himself. He just nods, still collecting his wits.

"See you in a minute," Niou tells him. "And you can pay me back after the match."

Yagyuu can imagine what he means all too clearly, feels sparks of heat in his body at the idea.

"Yes," he agrees under his breath, although Niou has already gone. Shakes his head as though to clear it of thoughts which are, right now, entirely unhelpful; sets about turning himself into Niou.


By the time he gets back, Niou is sitting neatly beside Yanagi. He doesn't spare a glance for Yagyuu, who dumps himself down in an untidy sprawl next to Kirihara, jokes and laughs with him in Niou's voice mostly because Seigaku are watching and even if they don't know much about Niou they have seen how he acted during the first part of the match.

He's just in time to see Marui and Jackal win. But he knew they would.

"Are you ready, Niou-kun?" Niou asks smoothly as the pair leave the court, and Yagyuu grins, showing teeth. "It's our turn."

"They won't know what hit 'em," Yagyuu says, and Niou gives a very small smile.

"I'm inclined to agree. Regrettable, but inevitable." They step forwards, side by side.

This should feel a lot stranger than it does. But he trusts Niou - weirdly, inexplicably - and what strangeness there is (his mind lingers on the image of Niou with brown hair, kneeling with Yagyuu's cock in his mouth) isn't unwelcome.

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